Tamms and Pants

Tamms told her mom to tell me not to wear certain pants when I go pick her up from school. Implying that they embarrass her. That, I, Jackson Biko, own pants that she thinks very little of. That my sense of style is luck-lustre and embarrassing for her pedigree. That shit hurt me. Children are an ungrateful lot who don’t care for your feelings. I suspect that they intentionally say hurtful stuff because they know they will be excused because they are children.

The pants in question are decent pants. They are Country Road sweats, one of those carrot pants that I bought in a clothing store in Durban for a steal. They fit well, they are super comfortable and they make me feel like a man who has ‘nyadhi’. Casual yes, but then I’m a casual guy. I’m a leopard and these are my spots. Am I to change my spots because a 9-year old thinks my pants suck and I’m not cool enough for her and her friends? Friends she has known for two minutes? And anyway, if you have a problem with my dressing, you tell me. I didn’t want to imagine that she was implying that I’m old and uncool.

I made a mental note to have a talk with her, after I had sulked a bit. Just the two of us.

So I went to Doha soon after I was told that my pants are shady and I thought about my life and my fashion sense. I get back and I pick her from school (I was careful not to wear the dreaded pants lest I’m disowned). She’s in an okay mood, dirty, yes, but in an okay mood. She throws her bag in the backseat and settles shotgun.

“Seatbelt.” I tell her.

“Where is Kim?” She asks.

I want to say, “He’s in the boot,” but I don’t want to start the conversation on the wrong foot.

“Sleeping at home.” I say. “How are you, darling?”

“You didn’t come with him?”

“No.” (Obviously!)

I reverse the car. Her trousers are dirty at the knees, like she was crawling through a sewer. Maybe they now have religious studies module which are conducted on one’s knees the whole day. What do I know anyway, I’m just a father with bad wardrobe choices.

“What happened to your trousers, darling?”

“Where?”

“Your knees, there,” I point. “Kwani you were crawling?”

“No.”

I wait for an explanation but I realise after two minutes that none will be offered. Maybe asking about her knees is an intrusion on her privacy. Maybe it’s a thing and old folk like us don’t know.  We drive down a valley and run into a small traffic jam at the top of the hill.

“When we were in school we used to be punished by being asked to kneel down and raise our hands.” I tell her.

“Which school did you go to?”

I tell her. It doesn’t register to her. I think if you made some middle class person’s child kneel and raise their hands in the air today, they will call it emotional and physical abuse. They will come to school yelling at the headteacher, “Do you know who I am?” There are too many important people in this city.

“How long did the teacher make you kneel down?” She asks.

“Well, it depends, if you stole maize from the school farm you would kneel for an hour.”

She laughs softly at that. It’s so rare to hear Tamms laugh audibly that when she does I’m thrilled but also confused at whether she is laughing at what I just said, laughing at me or at something she just remembered which has got nothing to do with what I just said.

“You had a school farm?” She asks like it’s a preposterous idea.

“Yes, a small one, for agriculture lessons.”

“Were there pigs in it?”

“No, but there was maize, beans and tomatoes.”

She looks away disinterested. If there were no pigs then that story is not worth her time. A story without pigs is a dud. I indicate onto Gitanga Road. I secretly wish I had lied that there were pigs. She doesn’t like my pants and now she doesn’t want to hear my farm stories. I turn and steal a look at her; she’s staring ahead with a blank face. I want to bring up the topic of my pants but the moment doesn’t seem right, especially because I have killed her pig story. We drive on in silence. She thrives mostly in silence, Tamms, that deep silence that feels like dark smoke in your lungs. At the age of 9, I can feel her receding further into that smog of silence. As her teenage years loom, I feel the silence bearing down on me like foul weather and I realise that I might not be dressed appropriately for that weather. I won’t know how to fill that silence when it comes in gusto during puberty. I won’t know whether to fill it with gifts, or conversation, or with myself and my bad clothing.  

As you might have guessed, that day I didn’t get the spine to ask her why she hates my pants so. I sort of promised myself that I would ask her the next time we would be alone together, but then when that time came, she got in the car and said, “I missed you,” and that sucked my heart right through my shoes and the pants were the last thing I was going to bring up in that loving moment.

I realised I had to bring up that topic before it’s overtaken by time because then it would look like I’m the kind of annoying person who brings up old stuff. So the next time I had the guts to broach the subject, we were at the salon where I had taken her to do her nails.

“So what do the fathers of your classmates do?” I started off on safe ground.

“Their fathers?”

“Yes.”

“Uhm, they do business and some work in offices, like bankers. [Pause] Some I don’t know.”

I pretended to peruse through an old magazine, to make it look like we are having a casual conversation.

“Who’s your best friend now in class 4?”

“Kena.”

“Spell that for me.”

She turns to look like me like she’s too old to be made to spell, especially simple words.

“K-e-n-a.” (Her eyes said, ‘duh!’).

“If she hadn’t lost the “y” she would have been Kenya…” I say hoping to spark a reaction. Nothing. Miriam, the pedicurist smiles at me with a look that says, “Don’t give up. Keep telling her those lousy jokes.”

“Is Kena black?”

“No, she’s brown.”

“Brown like Indian brown, or brown like light, like Miriam here.”

“She’s just brown.”

[Silence]

I’m reading my article in a very old True Love; 2013. It’s embarrassing. I toss it down. Across the room a man in his 50’s is having his hair dyed black. He might as well have been Kena’s father, who knows?

“Have you ever seen Kena’s father?” I ask her.

“Yeah”

“Kim, don’t put that in your mouth!” I say. Then to her. “What does he do?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does he normally wear?”

“A suit. Sometimes a white shirt.”

I roll my eyes when she isn’t watching. I bet Kena’s father is in financial services and drives a big car and wears black shoes with laces and Tamms sees him and wishes she had a proper father like that. Not one who wears carrot pants to her school and makes her the laughing stock. I can almost hear her disown me to Kena.

Kena: “Tamms, was that your father yesterday who picked you up?”

“Nooo!” Uncomfortable laughter, “Oh God, no!”

“Oh, who was he?”

“That’s our taxi guy.”

“Oh, he seemed nice.”

“He doesn’t know how to dress.”

As we drove back home from the salon, I reduced the volume of the music and jumped right into it without preamble. “Mommy told me you don’t like some pants of mine.”

Silence.

I studied her from the rear-view mirror. She was smiling with embarrassment or triumph or both. She said something, and I turned in my seat and asked, “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“Yeah.” She said.

“Why don’t you like them?” I sounded whiny, like a hurt lover. You know how your woman asks you how she looks in a particular outfit and when you admit that you aren’t too hot about the dress she starts sounding defensive? Saying stuff like, “But why? Is it the colour or the design you don’t like? You don’t think it brings out my hips?” Then you have to say, “It’s okay, and your hips are phenomenal. I just don’t like how it makes you look like an inverted bulb.” Then from the look she gives you, you know you were not expected to be entirely honest.

“I don’t like the way they look from behind,” Tamms said of my pants. I stared at her in the mirror, dumbfounded. What did she mean she didn’t like how they looked from behind, what is she doing looking at my pants from behind? Has she been looking at my ass? The image that came to my head was of a baby who has soiled his diaper and so it hangs on his bum as he waddles around.

“So,” I explained. “ There are fathers like Kena’s dad who probably work in offices and are required to wear suits and ties and trousers, but some of us, are artists. Do you know what an artist is?”

“Someone who draws?”

“Or writes or paints or sings or does stuff for a living that doesn’t involve, uhm, a formal office setup.”

“What is formal?”

“Like, you know, someone with a boss.”

“You don’t have a boss?”

“No. So I don’t have to wear suits. I can wear a t-shirt to work, and some days I just want to wear a t-shirt to work. You get?”

“Yeah.”

We drove on for a bit. “But I promise I won’t wear those pants to pick you up. What trousers should I wear? What trousers do I look good in?” (Fishing for compliments).

“Uhm, just wear anything nice.”

My dad used to wear these horrible trousers with a million pleats running up front. I hated them. He’d show up in them in school and I was always embarrassed at what others thought of me. Of us. This was the 80’s when trousers were made big like a tent, just incase you needed extra material from which to make an arm sling. His pants also had these massive turn ups.  In primary school my mom had this large node on her calves which I only found out much later out was a varicose vein after reading a bit of biology. It didn’t embarrass me, but I was always afraid that one of my friends would notice it and ask me what that was. I wouldn’t have known what to tell them. Fine, our parents sometimes embarrassed us, but we kept it to ourselves! We didn’t go hurting their feelings and planting insecurities in them. That’s no way to treat a parent.  

To imagine that Tamms is embarrassed of me fills me with such sorrow. I mean it could be worse, I could show up in a leather “chaket” like a typical Kalenjin from Iten, but am I? No. I could show up in a stetson hat like a Kuyu, complete with sharp-toed cowboy boots and some checked shirt humming country music songs, a toothpick hanging from corner of my lips. But I don’t. I could wear a yellow shirt to her parent-teacher meeting and be one of those annoying parents who are always standing up to ask a million inane questions. But I don’t. My crime is that my pants don’t look good from behind. I mean, if I had a big ass maybe they would fit better but how can my ass grow big when I worry about seeing that she gets a decent goddamn education? Is that what she wants, a father with a big ass? I don’t think so. Nobody wants a father with a big ass.

It’s hard enough being a father, now you have to worry about what you wear to her school lest, God forbid, you misrepresent her. Because apparently now they have a reputation to uphold, and you showing up in jeans is not good enough for the image she has cultivated amongst her peers. I think the only problem would be those fathers who still wear those Obama jeans. They should stop. They not only embarrass their children, they embarrass other fathers in school.  

You should see me now when I  go to pick her up. I wear khakis and a proper shirt, tucked in, and shoes that aren’t canvas so that I look gainfully employed and not some vagabond father. I look like I’m going to give a eulogy. But even when I dress up like this, I don’t get complimented, my efforts go unacknowledged and unappreciated. I don’t even know if she approves or not and I might never know until one day I hear it over the grapevine. It’s not like I want to be showered with compliments, I just want her to say something like, “I like your shoes, papa.” But do fathers get complimented for putting their best foot forward? Nyet.

“How do you like how I’m dressed today, darling?” I asked recently.

“It’s nice.”

“Just nice? Not dope? Not fantastic?” Or wonderful? (Big goofy smile)

“I like the trousers you wore on Friday, the blue ones.”

“Oh really? I will wear them tomorrow.”

“Don’t wear them all the time.”

Ps. The registration of the 10th Masterclass is on (8th to 10th March). To lock a slot email info@bikozulu.co.ke

 

137 thoughts on “Tamms and Pants”

  1. Wabushes says:

    Great!

  2. Wabushes says:

    Off to read the post now

  3. Izzo says:

    How now? Posted 11:37 am ans Wabushes already commented twice…smh

  4. Prince says:

    Ha haaaa, read first.

  5. Edmak says:

    Yey!! Can i get the bronze medal??

  6. Nyambura says:

    Is Kenya dead? No one has commented?

  7. Ruth says:

    Well, this is some interesting thing.
    Sorry Biko.

  8. Shiku says:

    Hahaha girls girls…. She’s not yet even 13,then you’ll have major moods and problems. Nice read Biko

  9. First off, hahaha. Biko why are you trying to impress Tamms? Wasn’t it enough work putting your best foot – and forehead – forward for missus? I thought the joy of fatherhood lay in the ability to embarrass your kids with awful dad jokes 🙂 Or at least my dad did that and still does. In my primary school life, he intentionally (I think so) did things the opposite of what I’d ask him to wear a certain coat and he would show up in a completely different beat down coat from sijui where. And the good thing is that imma do that do my kids. Will it hurt their feelings? Maybe. Will I care as their dad? Nyet.

  10. Gosh, you really care about her opinion and how she feels about you… Even on trivial things like the pants you wear when you go to pick her up. Thats one lucky kid
    Ati ‘has she been looking at my ass’ reeeaaally! Awesome as usual.

  11. Simuliki says:

    Children! Lovely

  12. jane says:

    Story of my life….My mum and I would plan what she would wear as per the school calendar and now she gets offended when I don’t tell her what to wear for occasions. It became our thing!

  13. Hellen Ak says:

    hahahaha Biko stop being insecure, wear those pants until she gets used to them.great piece as usual:-)

  14. Kay says:

    Tamms is a girl.haven’t you learnt anything.WE really are hard to please. Especially when we are nine.LOL

  15. Solo says:

    “How do you like how I’m dressed today, darling?” I asked recently.

    “It’s nice.”

    “Just nice? Not dope? Not fantastic?” Or wonderful?

    I feel you bruh! Nice nice read- as always

  16. Dominic Nzuki says:

    I thought I will be the first to comment

  17. Damajuliet says:

    i always look forward to Tamms stories..great

  18. Osolo says:

    he hehe the kids nowadays

  19. Kisenya Jesse says:

    21st Century parents LOL

  20. Hadi says:

    Interesting

  21. Nyauke Ojuki says:

    Beautiful read Biko:-)

  22. Debbz says:

    Chocolate man … Tamms is just being a ‘daddy’s girl” don’t overthink about it. I still propose to my dad what looks good on him and he listens and abides … you will actually miss her opinion on this at some point. Just run with it 🙂

  23. Matatamwas says:

    Nice

  24. Ben says:

    “Don’t wear them all the time.”
    Hahaha. I felt like am listening to that whole drama.

  25. Unknown Warrior says:

    HEHEHEHEHE Tamisha is hilarious!! Biko, I think you are just a sucker for her approval, but then again, what do I know, hmm??

  26. Carol Ohonde says:

    Children were created to keep our vanity in check lol!

  27. Kez says:

    Biko..you will be the end of some of us,very funny post.

  28. These fatherhood posts are always my best reads. I like Tamms’ sarcastic nerve that is downright hilarious. Btw, she might be well on her way to being a fashion aficionado judging from how she finds your pants (un)pleasant.

  29. katrine norah says:

    nice read

  30. abdullah omar says:

    you ought to be handed over to those people who deal with cruelty against children for the third degree treatment

  31. Caroline Kiarie says:

    I literally cried when I read this post. You are an amazing dad, Tamms and Kim are lucky to have you. In the end, they only remember that you came.

  32. Ckay says:

    Oh the honesty of children today! My 8yr old, then 6, said my Afro-styled weave (freshly done) looked like a mop-head; as she doubled over with laughter. Suffice to say, I’ve never picked the style again; Seems at the end of the day we are all vain like that – fishing for compliments from children :).
    She probably spared many (read dad) indigestion not saying so themselves 😀

  33. Riri says:

    Biko, Tamms is literary me when I was that age. I was too opinionated about everything. You are one lucky man, you will realize it later. Girls love their fathers above all there is. Dad then bought this wall hanging with a little girl that read ‘By the time we realize our parents were right, we have childen who think we are wrong!!’ it still hangs in their livingroom to date. Then early this month I looked back and saw what I have put the poor man through and penned this piece.

    TYPICAL NYERI DAD-DAUGHTER TALK (0-30 YEARS)
    0-3 years
    Dad: Love you princess
    Girl: (Un-endless hugs and dance)
    3-5 years
    Dad: Good day princess. Dad will pick you up from school (Hugs & kisses)
    Girl: Hurraaaaaay!!!
    ***************************************
    Dad: Morning Princess
    Girl: Don’t talk to me!! I waited for you all night and you didn’t come!!!
    Dad: I came at 11p.m, you were already asleep but I brought you your favourite mandazi’s
    Girl: Hurrray!! Hurrayy!! (hugs & kisses) You are the besssssst!

    6-11 years
    Girl: Dad, some kid in school keeps beating me up. Will you come with me today and punch them for me?
    Dad: (Laughs). No, report them to the teacher.
    Girl: I do that every day and he still beats me.
    Dad: Does he have 4 legs? 5 arms? Two heads? A tail?
    Girl: (Disappointed) Nooo!!!
    Dad: Great!!!! If he tries it, beat him up too. Thoroughly!!! Boys need to be punched to respect girls at times.
    Girl: Really now? What if that doesn’t work?
    Dad: Give it your all, it will. Trust me!! Does dad ever lie?
    Girl: No, dad doesn’t lie!! Will do that, hurray!!!
    (Don’t ask Nyeri girls where they got fighting tactics from)
    ************************************************
    Dad: Morning Princess? We’re going to garage today, get ready or you stay behind!!!
    Girl: Whooooooooop!!! Whoooop!!! (Dancing)
    12-14 years
    Dad: Why do you take 3 days to get up in the morning?
    Girl: I just wish there was nothing like school, am tired of it.
    Dad: (Serious face on). Those who dropped out of school are charcoal burners, beba beba, house-maids and all those things that you don’t want to be. The choice is yours!!! See you later and may you get late and get caned!
    15-18 years
    Mum: Dad says you should pick up your phone.
    Girl: Tell him I don’t want to talk to him!!!
    *******************************************
    Dad: (Via message) Your school grades are wanting, this is not what I pay for.
    Girl: (Silence)
    Dad: (Via message) You are okay? Do you want to talk? What is all the drama I hear about?
    Girl: Don’t want to talk to you!!!
    Dad: Okay Your Highness.

    19-23 years
    Dad: (7 missed calls)
    Girl: (Via message) I need 20k
    Dad: What for?
    Girl: 15k for my glasses, they broke and 5k for shopping, I don’t have EVERYTHING.
    Dad: Okay, will send it before the weekend.
    Girl: Thank you!! And please don’t get late, can’t go to class.
    ***********************************************
    Dad: I got your college report, very well done! Like dad, like daughter.
    Girl: Sure, Thank you!!
    ***********************************************
    Dad: Congratulations Supa girl on your graduation.
    Girl: Thank you!! Can I now get the race bike I have wanted all my life?
    Dad: No!!! You gotta learn that things are earned!!

    24-30 years
    Girl: Dad, I don’t wanna be employed.
    Dad: You have a plan? Capital?
    Girl: Yes, take a look. A little savings too but enough at the moment.
    Dad: Great!!! Brains like Dad’s. Will get you a small top up too.
    Girl: Hurraaaay!!! You are the best!!!!
    Dad: Am a text away whenever you need me.
    Girl: Thank you!!! Thank you!!! Love you dad!!
    **********************************************************
    Dad: Moh, I want to send you. Can you met up with **** contact *****. See and test whatever it is that he is selling and tell me whether it’s worth. Don’t go alone, take your brother with you.
    Girl: At your service Your Highness
    Dad: In addition, check your email and give me a current market value.
    Girl: Okay Sir!!
    ************************************************************
    Girl: Dad, I need you something…. Contact ****. The nigga is your high school mate. Can you talk and ….
    Dad: Done!!! He said you can call him and arrange an appointment!!
    Girl: You are the best!! Love you to the moon and back.

    I have never been the most listening and easiest kid to raise, Muthoni Gachuhi, I don’t think you were either. I can’t trade my dad for ANYTHING in the entire world. I don’t know where he got the calm to stand my dramas. #EveryDayIsFathers’Day

  34. Lolo says:

    She’s at that age where she starts to be conscious of fashion and what her friends think about her. Sometimes pre-teens are worse than teens. I love that you care about her feelins.
    By the way leather chakets are still cool if worn the right way.

  35. Njooro says:

    Dude, you are having a blast. Fatherhood seems to sit well with you. Keep up working at it. Cheers.

  36. Rugie says:

    I know exactly how Tamms feels.. My dad always came to my school in jeans and rugged hair.The turmoil this caused my young heart! In retrospect, I think he was a pretty cool dad.Do your carrot pants!

  37. Glo says:

    Her mother should not have told you. She should have sieved that information like all other women do.

  38. Irene Wanderi says:

    Son: Mum, you are a good mum
    Me: Thanks love, you are a good son too.
    Son: But sometimes you are a bad mom when you beat me (I knew this was headed somewhere)
    Me: When do I beat you?
    Son: When I do bad manners.
    Me: What bad manners?
    Son: Tusianaing? (with that Nairobi accent they have)
    Me: And what happens when some does bad manners?
    Son: They are beaten – but not when they say sorry
    Rolls eyes, and on and on. Point it there’s no winning, just do your best, they always end up loving us.

  39. Anonymous says:

    The only thing that would embarrass me as a kid is my dad showing up with his breath reeking of alcohol.It still does. I was never bothered by what he wore. Great piece!!

  40. salim says:

    My brother, you can really throw a tantrum….I pity Mama Tamms. A full grown African man going off in that kind of tangent, could you maybe teach our fine ladies this art of how to respectably throw a tantrum???

  41. Murakaru says:

    Thumbs up to Tamms,Biko your kid has character,just be happy she told you to stop wearing those embarrassing pants instead of just being gloomy around you every-time you have them on.The fact that she found them embarrassing,means they might not be as good as you think.

  42. “My dad used to wear these horrible trousers with a million pleats running up front.This was the 80’s when trousers were made big like a tent, just incase you needed extra material from which to make an arm sling. His pants also had these massive turn ups.” Lolest! Your relationship with Tamms is admirable, reminds me of my dad whom we are still the closest of friends, but i can never point out that i hate his pants!Lol

  43. Mukami Kathambara says:

    Fathers and their daughters! *rolling my eyes*
    Would you be as hurt if Kim said he hated your trousers?

  44. Newton Muta says:

    afternoon made

  45. Ian says:

    Thanks again for making the fatherhood world seem so surreal; can’t wait to hop on that train.
    Have to say how personally I dislike those Aladdin pants men wear which have flies that are inches from the ground. (Are those carrot pants too?).
    I guess generation gaps will always cause embarrassment though. Great read as usual Biko.

    • Ian says:

      Thanks again for making the fatherhood world seem so surreal; can’t wait to hop on that train.
      Have to say how personally I dislike those Aladdin pants men wear which have flies that are inches from the ground. (Are those carrot pants too?).
      I guess generation gaps will always cause embarrassment though. Great read as usual Biko.

  46. tabby says:

    intresting read…kids of nowadays are just lucky. being taken to salon to have their nails done at 9yrs by their dads. i still remember my prima days when dad used to pop in school anytime he felt like ati to check my progress with the same jacket all the time. embarrasment galore but i couldnt dare tell him or mom

  47. Stella says:

    Tamms,Tamms,Tamms. Good read there Biko.

  48. Siria says:

    Tamms is great,daddies shouldn’t embarrass their children with old fashioned dressing. I can’t laugh enough.

  49. kev says:

    Wait Tams gets her Nails done??!!?

  50. robert says:

    Nice read. Its that one thing they don’t like about you that gives one sleepless nights. That Kim in the trunk joke was wicked. Shout out to Eminem.

  51. Margaret says:

    Fatherhood posts are my favourite, Biko. Your relationship with Tamms is really sweet.

  52. Moreen says:

    3 thoughts on “Tamms and Pants” at 1.16pm?? Biko I think the gang just went into the hut too! This could be worse than your pants from behind…hahaha

  53. I think if you made some middle class person’s child kneel and raise their hands in the air today, they will call it emotional and physical abuse. They will come to school yelling at the headteacher, “Do you know who I am?” There are too many important people in this city.
    hahaha…when I look back at the caning and punishments we received; some sadist teachers pinching us until we bled, or ordering us to walk on our knees from one end of the corridor to the other; in this day and age, such punishments would be tantamount to harsh labour in a North Korean gulag!

    I prefer kids being free to talk and not being afraid to express their minds, and giving a run down of how their day was. With paedophiles running amock and infiltrating society, masquerading as teachers, friends and so forth..I like it when my child regards me as her friend and confidant.

  54. Njeri says:

    They will come to school yelling at the headteacher, “Do you know who I am?” There are too many important people in this city. loooool! Reminded me of how some driver was caught bila a DL this morning and instead of being nice to the cop he said, “Mimi ni wakili” as if wakilis are alloed to do whatever the hell they want. That said, you should have named this article “Whining” or “Rants”. I wish I could rant about what my father wears and he actually cares because my dad is a typical Kikuyu guy, he will wear whatever is closest and not give a damn! Also, bankers and lawyers make those of us who wear jeans to work look directioneless in life.

  55. Kezie Ndwiga says:

    I love this. As parent Biko, be ready for your ego to bruised now and again. Its good she talks to her mum, at least you know what she thinks and feels. Myself i have two teenage boys, i heard my first born tell a friend of mine that he thought only his mother dresses like a teenager! That is when am in straight jeans and a vest. My second born is a fashion forward one, he onced told me that he wishes he saw me when i was in Form 2, that i must have been a rebel because i love gothic things and boots. He actually told me i must have been a lot like Lucy of the Loud House cartoon! Damn, that kid is dark. Carrots pants????

  56. Dickson says:

    The greatest achievement of parenthood (as far as my father was concerned), is in embarrassing the shit out of me. I turned out just fine. I well know I can’t match up, but I sure won’t worry too much if I end up embarrassing her with my fashion sense (or lack thereof).

    I’ve already slaved too much looking good for missus

  57. A good read on a sunny like Tuesday afternoon!

  58. GeroWaMuks says:

    Biko, you’re whining! 🙂 🙂
    Nice read, and on some level I feel you, but brother can you whine LOL!!
    You’re doing the right thing Btw; that your daughter has the complete freedom to dis you, and you take it like a man/dad. Kudos, you’re bringing up a really confident woman.

  59. Jorgè says:

    Sue her ! That’s emotional torture.No wait.Could be you torturing her! hahaha.

  60. Jorgè says:

    Sue her ! That’s emotional torture.No wait.Could it be you torturing her! hahaha.
    Anyway so in parenting you have to measure up to your children’s standards

  61. kennedy says:

    I feel you Biko, i once showed up in shorts and sandals(zile za kuoga)none of my two young ones came to me,they went straight to the car and never said a word

  62. regina mwengi says:

    Wah, Chocolate Man you are in for it, couldn’t help a weeny sorry for your
    pricked ego! I love Tamms for voicing it out though , means she is a confident
    child! The world better be ready for her.. As for you Biko next time just ask her
    to help pick your wardrobe to help you look like a cool Dad.. to her. The rest
    of us can go walk off a short plank.. if we don’t like What Tamms picks for you…

  63. churchill salmon says:

    Nice piece Bikoa typical African parent don’t do as much as you do to impress their kids..you know what i mean. Let Tamms be Tams and The legendary Biko be Biko

  64. Krow says:

    What is this girl doing looking at her father’s ass.

  65. G.K. says:

    Heh heh, Biko amecatch feelings!! Anyways, thank God you don’t have a big ass, they don’t look so good in men’s clothes.

  66. Hahaha cant stop laughing,the Obama Jeans!!

  67. Kayt says:

    Nice read. the worry of every parent is fit to the descriptions of their babies’ ‘cool parent’

  68. nelly says:

    You are an amazing dad Biko, she’s lucky to have you.
    Wear what you like, really. What really matters to her is that you turn up on time, listen to her and set a good example. If you take her out for special treats once in a while that’s a plus.
    Otherwise (hehe) we daughters are never really impressed. Never.

  69. JB says:

    As we drove back home from the salon, I reduced the volume of the music and jumped right into it without preamble. “Mommy told me you don’t like some pants of mine.”Silence.
    I studied her from the rear-view mirror. She was smiling with embarrassment or triumph or both. She said something, and I turned in my seat and asked, “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”
    Looooved this part. My niece does it all the time. so adorable… like oh! oh! busted!
    Also, why didn’t she just tell you instead of telling wifey? hehehe

  70. Mutindi says:

    Good stuff Biko. Very emotional.

  71. LK says:

    Sigh….kids my daughter, she’s seven,just told me few days back that she wants me to come dressed smartly, on prize giving day. I asked myself the same thing, kwani l am normally a shabby dresser?

  72. Karimi says:

    ‘Catching feelings’ over 9 year old Tamm’s disdain over maroon trousers (Which are ugly by the way!) Wait till she turns 13-moods galore, eyes rolling, head shakes and deep sighing-you will know what ancient feels like. Awesome read as always.

  73. Nita says:

    I wear khakis and a proper shirt, tucked in, and shoes that aren’t canvas so that I look gainfully employed and not some vagabond father. I look like I’m going to give a eulogy. But even when I dress up like this, I don’t get complimented, my efforts go unacknowledged and unappreciated.

  74. Murugi says:

    he he Daddy Daughter moments

  75. MKO says:

    Awesome read! wacha kucatch feelings :-))

  76. carolyne says:

    phahahahahahahaha…..my laughter is endless…it was fab….

  77. Grace says:

    There’s nothing as hurtful as a kids snaky comments.Just the other day my 8 year old cousin just told me”umenona skuizi”.I had to go the mirror and ask it how fat have i grown?Now i have to start watching what i am eating

  78. Mark says:

    This is a blessing in disguise, One day when she’s a bit older n she wears something u don’t like. Ull have the right to tell her to change purely based on the fact that you Don’t like it. N if she says “that’s not fair dad” , Ull simply say; in this family we respect each others opinions on fashion…

  79. kushm says:

    biko u just coz she hurt ur feelings doesn’t mean u have to hurt kuyus as well, that was savage lol.

  80. Nava says:

    Hmmmh daughter validation…You’ve just opened my eyes on kids approving and validating their parents as well

  81. Lyn Musimbi says:

    I think Tamms is the kind of girl who always weighs her words before she speaks. More of a thinker than a talker. So you can never guess what she is thinking or about to say… lol! But if she says the pants are bad then they are. Perhaps she had gone through a lot of agony before telling her mum.haha

  82. Edna ednaouma@gmail.com says:

    Hahaha…loved it

  83. faith says:

    Great piece!

  84. Redempta Bisangwa says:

    hahaha she was only being honest at her age, thank you for making an effort in wearing blue pants that she liked.. i loved every bit of this article

  85. Terry says:

    Tamms had got you by the bees. Welcome to pre-teen parenting.

  86. Charles Kagana says:

    I never did like these ‘Fatherhood’ articles. Always remind me of how useless a father I am to my children.

  87. Dawn says:

    Any post with Tamms always makes me smile 🙂

  88. Julie says:

    I just loved it…

  89. Claire Angoye says:

    Awesome piece Biko so dramatic and emotional…. I get you hehe surely you are a great dad to Tamms ,it is the joy of being a dad.

  90. A-star says:

    Too many important people in this city lol.

  91. Njengah says:

    ooh poor fathers!
    I’m glad she was honest though. I hope my son will have the guts to let me know if he doesn’t like something about me instead of suffering in silence.

  92. Ombok says:

    Nice Read

  93. Charles says:

    That’s the life of today’s liberated children. They speak their minds even to their parents. In our times children were not to be heard. And the parent was a god. Talking back to them was an abomination

  94. Suzie says:

    I love this fatherhood articles, more of this please this year

  95. Mwakisha Makoko says:

    Heads up when you finally do get a compliment, be mentally prepared she’s most probably about to ask you for a favour hehehe.

  96. Mellany says:

    Haha Tammy sounds like my younger sister, My dad to date will ask her “How is my outfit today?’ She is literally my dads personal stylist.

    Sorry Biko, You may just have to make her your stylist in future.

  97. Wanji says:

    In your true love article (January 2017) you had mentioned that you daughter doesn’t laugh at your trousers (yet)
    well she wasn’t laughing but…..

  98. jimmy says:

    I love this piece. What i just love is the insecurities you get raising your
    daughter. It felt like a movie. love it.

  99. Rose says:

    “I don’t like the way they look from behind,” Tamms said of my pants.
    Maybe gals and boys should also tell theirs mums not to wear certain trousers too. 🙂

  100. Kevin Kadipo says:

    This Tamms is over-loved

  101. Hellen says:

    This is totally interesting. Reminds me of one time in highschool I suggested to mum what to wear for visiting. Come to think of it today I feel bad I (could have) offended her. I hope my daughter won’t ever tell me the same.

  102. Amanda says:

    I cannot wait for the day that Tamms reads this blog.
    #EveryDayIsFathers’Day

  103. Henry says:

    Awesome read Biko, very gluing. maybe the advert at the end can be put on the side, it fouls the nice after taste.. lol

  104. Angela Darcy says:

    Hey Biko. Country road is such a good brand. Just wear them on sundays! She is truly daddy gal. Someone said a house without gals is like a river without a source. I love baby gals. Good on you Biko..

  105. Njoki says:

    Well Biko, this one has you eating out of the palm of her hand… As they (who again?) say, a woman’s heart is a deep well of secrets. She may or may not deign to let you in on them. In the meantime, stand ready.

  106. Syl says:

    HAHA children got no chills ….brutally honest huh! Tamms is being sincere ….

  107. Gathoni says:

    Carrot pants? Hizo ni nini sasa? Not surprised Tamms hated them, seeing that even the name is detestable. Aladdin pants I have seen – they should only be worn by Aladdin. If you are currently working as a male model by all means wear shorts. If not, your hairy ashy legs are killing us and not in the nice way. You get a free pass at the beach and poolside, don’t stretch it. This cannot be said too many times, don’t be the late thirties,forties or fifties dad or mom wearing teenage clothes. To put it mildly, umepitwa na wakati. Yaani you have been overtaken by events. Midlife crisis much.

  108. Wanjiku says:

    The sincerity of children….sorry Biko but lovely read as always!

  109. Tracy Gesare says:

    Biko, what will Tamms say the day she finds your blogs of her? Please tell us how she reacts. Also, don’t wear the blue pants all the time. hahahahhahaha I do not even understand your struggle. Kids truth is brutal af.
    https://tracygesare.com/

  110. Mugabi P says:

    This is simply amaze-balls.
    Following in the shoes of sincere Tamms.

  111. Magdi says:

    my sense of style is luck-lustre and embarrassing for her pedigree.. I just don’t like how it makes you look like an inverted bulb.”This had me Keeling over….

  112. DAMARIS says:

    HAHA nice read

  113. Amy says:

    Haha, “Don’t wear them all the time”. It will look like its the only pair you have which is more embarrassing. She’s got a reputation to uphold i bet.

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